


An Interesting Summons

by Jetainia



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Demon Phil, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 21:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16480418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jetainia
Summary: Through the inadvertent correct usage of candles, a demon is summoned from Hell.





	An Interesting Summons

**Author's Note:**

> MC4A - Paranormal Phantasm  
> Beta: Aya Diefair

Phillip had just sat down with a cup of coffee when he felt the familiar feeling that meant he had to go back to work. He sighed and went to change out of his comfy pyjamas to his spooky scary outfit that the job demanded. He had just enough time after he had changed to take a gulp of coffee before he was teleported to his destination.

The destination that was filled with candles, but had no terrified–yet desperate–human waiting for him. It appeared that he had landed in a living room—quite a nice living room with stylish yet comfortable looking furniture. There were candles on every available surface that wasn't the floor; several of them were scented resulting in a mixture of vanilla, chocolate, and coffee wafting through the air.

Phillip shrugged and started to poke around the living room, maybe the human had to go to the bathroom and would be back soon. Either way, it was rather nice not to be immediately ordered to do something more than likely distasteful. He found a stash of unlit candles in one of the cupboards, quite a few handguns and daggers strewn throughout the living room, a partially eaten chocolate bar, cold coffee, and several important looking documents when he heard movement from a few rooms away.

There was a slight creak, a whirring followed by several clicks, the loading of a gun and then stealthy footsteps that a human wouldn't have heard come down the hallway. The summoner was returning from wherever they had been. Phillip returned to his position in the middle of all the candles and prepared himself for the theatrical aspect of his job.

Shadows lengthened, thunder rumbled above, and then a gun was pointed at him. That was new, not many tried to threaten what they had summoned–they already had all the power. Though apparently there was a cult out there that was summoning his cousins, the deal-makers, for the sake of killing them.

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

Also different, Phillip knew this was his summoner, he could feel it in his blood, but apparently his summoner didn't know who he was. His summoner was also pointing a gun at him as if he thought it would do something. The thunder died away as Phillip thought and the shadows returned to their normal state.

"You don't know?" he asked, trying to figure it out.

"Would I ask if I knew?"

"Fair point. I am Phillip, a demon from Hell that you summoned with your excessive use of candles." Phillip wondered if perhaps he should mention that to Management. They couldn't keep having demons being summoned due to an inadvertent correct use of candles.

The man snorted, adjusting the gun so it pointed more accurately towards Phillip's chest. "Yeah, and I'm a ballerina from Russia."

Phillip rose an eyebrow, "You certainly don't sound Russian. Nor do you have the correct facial features one would expect from someone with Russian descent."

"I wonder why." Phillip was very confused. This was not how these things went. He appeared, did the act that the summoner wanted, and then vanished back into Hell for a nice cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee, he could rather use one right about now.

He moved out of the summoning circle—ignoring the man as he loudly protested Phillip's movements—and headed to where he knew the kitchen would likely be. The man followed, still holding his gun, and watched as Phillip moved around his own kitchen easily.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked.

"Making coffee," Phillip explained, wondering how the man didn't already know that. He thought for a moment and then added, "Would you like one?" It would, after all, only be polite to offer the host a drink while he made one for himself.

The man shrugged, finally lowering the gun. He seemed to have accepted that Phillip wasn't going anywhere. "Name's Clint," he offered. "Only seems fair that you know my name after you told me yours."

"Hello, Clint."

"Hi."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"So, you're actually a demon," Clint said later as the two of them sat and drank coffee in the still candlelit living room.

Phillip nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Huh. What's it like?"

With a sigh, Phillip set down his mug and thought about his home. "It is loud, souls scream every second, and the hellhounds bark. There is always the crackle of fire, even if no fire is nearby. The only time it's quiet is when I'm summoned away from Hell. Even then, there are still echoes of the screams. You cannot escape Hell."

"Man, I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that must be like. If I want quiet, I just take out my hearing aids. Sure, there's still a bit of sound, but not much."

"It is no matter. I have had several centuries to get accustomed to it."

"Well, yeah, but…" Clint trailed off, his hands drifting in the air as though to say something but unsure of what.

Phillip smiled, it was strange having a human feel sorry for him. They generally just stayed behind the line and demanded whatever it was they wanted while trying not to show how terrified they were. He found that he rather liked it. It was nice not having to talk about the souls recently roped into a deal or broken by the constant torment. Still, he had to return.

He stood up, making his way to the centre of the candles where he had first arrived. Clint watched him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to Hell. You have no need of me and so I must return."

"But you don't like Hell!" Clint protested. "You said it's loud and you don't like that."

"Nevertheless, I must return."

"Hey, how about you stay here tonight?"

Phillip blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, you could stay here where it's quiet and go back tomorrow or something. I could make it the reason I summoned you, if you want?" Clint was leaning forwards on the couch now, looking earnestly at Phillip.

"You want me to stay in your house for the night?" Phillip asked slowly. "Me. A demon from Hell."

"Yes," Clint declared. "Yes, I do. I'll even give you a pillow and blanket."

Phillip considered it, already feeling the tug that represented the summoner's order. It would be nice to spend a night away from Hell. "I– thank you."

Clint waved a hand, "Nah, it's all good. I've only got the couch but it's something, right? I'll go grab a pillow and blanket."

With that, he scrambled off the couch and disappeared down the hallway leaving Phillip standing amongst the many burning candles. A small smile crossed his face, he rather liked this human, he thought. He'd keep an eye on him when he returned to Hell and help out if the man was ever in trouble. There was nothing to say a demon wasn't allowed to guard a mortal like the angels did, after all.


End file.
